


Motive

by jumponthechandelier



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: F/M, Humor, One Shot, Reader-Insert, Slice of Life, Songfic, Unabashed Flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 13:11:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19229800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumponthechandelier/pseuds/jumponthechandelier
Summary: More often than not, Dante finds himself wanting to sleep off whatever hell mission he just completed.But as time passes and he becomes accustomed to not coming home to an empty place, to find you there, manning the desk or being wasted with the girls after completing your own assignments, he finds that he’ll do just about anything to stay awake.If only he could catch you half-dressed and dancing like an absolute idiot more often.(DantexReader)





	Motive

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by "Alive With The Glory of Love" by Say Anything.

Warm summer air passed through the windows of Devil May Cry, ruffling your sloppily tied back hair as you moved through the office. Dressed in one of Dante’s old t-shirts, cut to create a makeshift crop top and a pair of scanty biker shorts you received as a gift from Trish, you did your best to fight the heat.

The devil hunter himself was out on a mission that would put him out until late tomorrow, giving you no qualms in dressing outside of your normal practicality. You had the place to yourself, damn it, and you had your own task to do while he was finally out of your way. With an air of determination you stood in the foyer, eyes glaring and hands moving to arm yourself with supplies.

_You were going to clean the absolute shit out of this place._

Hours later, with sweat beading down your arms and instances of gagging due to an overwhelming amount of dust or bleach intake, you splayed yourself out on the couch. Tired eyes followed the spinning blades of the fan above, a groan escaping you as you reached for the beer on the table only to find it empty. Fighting a horde of demons seemed like child's play compared to this.

Maybe that was an exaggeration, but good God was this place a fucking cesspool. Dante was going to give you _at least_ half of what he earned this weekend, you were going to make sure of it.

You barely managed to remove yourself from the cushions, another cold beer being your only motivation as you realized you never even got to the floors. Yanking open the fridge door you grabbed the alcohol and chugged half of it before grabbing the broom in the corner. You cringed at the thought of Dante coming in with blood and grim splattered on his form, ruining all of your hard work.

Regardless, you continued on with a huff, kicking the jukebox to get it to splutter to life.

Turning the dial to find the most raucous, cheesy punk you could find, you blasted the tune without inhibitions.

Five beers was a bit much, you guessed. Combine that with cleaning fumes and you were moving like an idiot. You spun the broom like a partner in a club, slunk enticingly down the stairs like some revived broadway starlet, and hopped onto Dante’s desk like it was a goddamn stage. The broom served as your guitar and now your mic, your crazed voice singing along to the nostalgic lyrics with ease.

Your hand reached up to pull your hair down from its ties, locks falling down as you shook your head to the beat.

_I won’t let them take you, won’t let them take you_

_Hell, no, no_

With a dramatic flourish you dropped the broom to the ground and yanked your shirt off, the piece of fabric falling with it as you concluded your performance. You had worked up quite a sweat, after all.

“ _Didn’t realize it was my birthday._ ”

That smooth, cocky voice filtered in from the doorway, your eyes widening at the realization.

Oh, no.

Oh, no, no, _no_.

You cursed under your breath, turning to completely face your company, doing your best not to recoil at the thought of him seeing you like this. He was never going to let you live this down, you’d have to move out, maybe see if you could sleep on Lady’s couch for a bit-

“What? You’re not happy to see me?”

Dante kicked the door shut with his foot, that smirk still plastered on his face as he sauntered towards the desk. You crossed your arms over your lace covered chest as you looked down at him incredulously.

“You’re getting blood on my floor.”

“ _My_ floor, babe.”

“I cleaned it.”

“I pay for it.”

“We _both_ pay for it, idiot.”

He smiled at your quip, his gloved hand reaching out as an offer to help you down. “Touché.”

You rolled your eyes and took it, hopping down with ease and moving to grab your discarded shirt. “I thought you weren’t supposed to home until tomorrow, Dante.”

“Sorry to interrupt your... _fun_ , but it was a clean house and go kind of thing. Seems like I got home just in time, if you ask me.”

He grabbed your discarded beer and chugged, winking as you turned to look at him with an annoyed whine. You went to snatch it from his grasp, failing miserably as he quickly took hold of your wrist. A whine turned into a scowl, various concepts of how exactly you were going to get out of this running through your mind.

You could kick him where it hurts, but that would be a disservice to-

Wait, no.

_'What the hell is wrong with me?’_

Dante was watching you with utter amusement, that mischievous glint in his eyes both attractive and irritating.

You’d just have to turn the tables for once.

“ _Hey, Dante_ …”

Voice like a purr, you looked up a him with a devious grin, your free hand coming up to run along the edges of his coat. “I’m still in the mood to clean, if you’d like some help… can’t have you walking around the house like this, after all.”

In the near year that you had started renting out his spare bedroom, never had you _ever_ , flirted so carelessly with the devil hunter. The Son of Sparda, who had fought monster after monster and saved the world on many occasions, never had something catch him so off guard. His confidence had been washed down the drain in seconds.

Before he even had a chance for a rebuttal, you stuffed your hand into his coat pocket, effectively grabbing an envelope of cash and the keys to Cavaliere. You slipped your hand out of his hold, making sure to snatch your shirt, and bolted for the door.

“What the hell do you-?!”

“Don’t worry, _b_ _abe_...”

You drawled out his nickname for you as you opened the door, sending a wink over your shoulder.

“I’ll bring you back a pizza!”

Even as he heard the revving of his motorcycle’s engine, Dante found himself frozen in place. Shaking his head he let out an amused scoff, a smirk gracing his lips.

Between his travels around the world and the trysts of his younger days, he’d never seen anything more beautiful than (y/n), half-naked, playing air guitar on his desk.

He’d never tell you that, though.

**Author's Note:**

> I had wayyy too much fun writing this. Thank you for reading!


End file.
